The infamous double Scorpio or New Moon Scorpio has a deeply submerged, repressed self, where he or she becomes inducted into ways of knowing, seeing, and feeling that are whole and impenetrable. The person functions as an intrinsic, completely independent, inner network. There is deep sense in this person, and indisputable reason, yet being so unto themselves their reasoning might well be unintelligible to others. She or he is the star of a tragic, extremely seductive, fascinating play which the person might actually predict yet fall into all the same. The double Scorpio is the victim of both deep insight and deep lure, like a double edged sword. The person will love and remember every glowing facet along the way of the path of seduction—for the dark path of unconscious impulse will be chosen, so as to understand the deeper motivations, traumas, and connectivity that lies beneath us all. The person will have to keep many secrets to protect their incommunicable reasoning and how personally invested they actually are, how much they risk, in every step. The depths of what the person risks is so much that this creates an aura of protection—for no one would assume that anyone would act such a way while knowing completely what is at stake. But the Scorpio moves with that kind of dangerousness, because it is the deepest, most illuminating road. Losing the battle but winning the war is their ultimate mentality, that of the general. The secrets they are bent on uncovering transcend even their own personal risk, transcend the personal itself, and end up glowing with universal importance in the treasure trove of what is vital to humanity. Psychologically this person discovers his or her own self without fear, without prejudice. The double Scorpio’s sight is so deep, and thus cold, so far removed from the sun, cold enough to handle the ugly/beautiful mirror of inner truth. Still, the New Moon Scorpio has a kind of innocence as all New Moon people do, a gaiety, a self-assurance, a love of being born in one’s power, most enchantingly worn when young, but which this person carries with them throughout life. The person will go to extremes, becoming so identified with certain traits that those traits become Achilles’ heels. At that point, the double Scorpio temporarily loses sight—too much concentration creates a tunnel, and a blindness. The person may be standing in the doldrums like a sore thumb, out of place, mad-looking with displaced passion. Then everything will have to be sacrificed to restore calm, equilibrium, to restore sight. Yet the double Scorpio dearly wants to retain and live with a burning passion, as a flame that will never go out. Thus the person is tasked with eventually bringing themselves down to earth, down to where heat can maintain itself, lava-like depths; ironically the person does this by raising up his or her consciousness to the heights, or becoming like the eagle. The person must become more consistent, or keep the calm, harness the patience, even through harrowing death and rebirth cycles, total loss followed by dignified renewal, or cycles set in motion by reactions that belong in the past. At first, all their connections are rife with ghosts and trauma. They are too drawn by the rage and passion that lies in those liminal spaces, the residues left like karmic fingerprints on our living skins. The double Scorpio, to keep his or her sanity, must be devoted to clearing this energy and vibrating at a higher consciousness, or he or she might become the accessory to much harm—to others, but also their own selves. They are solely responsible for digging their own graves. The person would be wise to look to the monthly New Moons, or the twice yearly Solar Eclipses, and ritualize those times for shedding viewpoints, associations, or even their own powers in the effort to clear and elevate. The double Scorpios I have known (and somehow I haven’t known many, being a double Scorpio myself but of a different make—Scorpio rising, Scorpio Sun—and apparently there’s not room enough for the both of us in a single space) are contained people, smolderingly passionate, tight-lipped or precise with words, and capable of the coolest apathy or rawest intimacy. They relish tough moments, moments which make a man or a woman, and thrive on uncovering their own strength. The Scorpio Moon must overcome deep attachment phobias and obsessions, that karmic familial imprint of the past that binds them deliciously and torturously to cycles. Luckily, their Scorpio Sun provides them with an interior that is a safe and sympathetic place to have their angels and demons battle it out. They may experience the first arc of their life in total secrecy, afraid to show a glimmer of this place they keep, showing their true self to nobody. But eventually, they will long to love more deeply, and transparency must become their religion. Looking others dead in the eye and inviting them to speak, and knowing that if they spoke their own truth, that there can be no real harm in that, only liberation. Those who are meant to be near them will understand, and perhaps even stay. Much gets risked and much gets lost with so much deeply woven in Scorpio.